Jealousy
by Lambogod
Summary: Lucca finds herself at a crossroads in life... and takes the path that leads to destruction.


It was dark, but she could see just fine. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the lack of light; indeed, she thrived in it. It was her best friend—her only friend. 

The receipts in her hand were crumpled, and she did her best to smooth them before she took to reading them. _Received: One "Atom-Diffuser." Two Thousand "Flamethrowers." One "Flambom." _

She sighed. Her hands were shaking. She felt like throwing up. Setting the papers down on her desk, she stood, wishing the sick feeling in her stomach would go away. She had no reason to feel this way. After all, it was _them_ who had pushed her to this point. She saw them again, together, looking as happy as they truly were. It was sickening. 

This new thought cheered her somewhat, and she began to walk with renewed confidence to her door. Her foot hit something hard next to her bed, and she tumbled over. Unable to catch herself, she hit her head on the floor, hard. The sound of hurried footsteps was heard outside. 

The door opened a crack, and a small voice was heard. "Sis, are you okay? What happened?" 

"Don't come in!" she responded, sitting up and clutching her head. She was bleeding. It wasn't much, however, and she quickly wiped it on a towel she found at the foot of her bed. 

"B-but, are you okay?" came the voice again, a more concerned tone this time, with a touch of hurt. 

She softened, then stood up. "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry for snapping. But you know no one's allowed in here this time of night." 

"I know," the voice answered. "I'm sorry . . . I was just worried, that's all." 

"It's okay." 

After a moment's pause, the door creaked shut, and Lucca was alone again. Deciding that, perhaps, she couldn't see _quite_ as well in the dark as she thought, she flipped on the light. The room was bathed in the soft, almost eerie glow of her overhead lamp. She had invented it herself, of course, and had every intention of selling the idea. But now was not the time for selfish ideas like that. She had more important, and gravely serious, things to worry about. 

She sat down on her bed, removing her shoes and setting them next to her night stand. She feared her sorrow would overwhelm her again as she reclined, and, unable to hold back, she began to cry for the fifth time that day. She wondered when, if ever, the pain would go away. 

Her father had passed away two days prior, and she feared her one true compatriot was gone for good. The children had taken it hard as well, but none as hard as Lucca's mother, Lara. She had been inconsolable, and remained so, refusing to see even Lucca. Her muffled cries could still be heard through her closed bedroom door, and Lucca feared for the woman's sanity. 

She fell asleep that night with troubling thoughts parading through her mind. She did her best to ignore these, but even her dreams were invaded. Her restless slumber continued until the early hours of the morning. 

* * * 

At breakfast that morning, Kid was especially excited. "And you know what?" Lucca heard as she came into the kitchen. "You'll never guess!" 

"You're right, I'll never guess. So why don't you just tell me?!" Roan exclaimed, raising an annoyed eyebrow at her. 

"Okay, fine. I heard that the castle was broken into a few nights ago! Isn't that cool?!" She laughed. 

Roan grunted. "Yeah, that's . . . cool. Whatever." 

"Oh, you're just no fun." 

"What's this about the castle getting broken into?" Lucca asked, taking her place at the table. The other five children had yet to appear, though they would soon, no doubt. 

Kid smiled, glad that _someone_ was interested in her story. "They said a couple thieves broke into Guardia castle and stole a whole bunch of money! They were those . . . You know . . . what are they called again?" 

"Radical Dreamers," Lucca answered, sipping her coffee, losing herself for a moment both to its aroma, and to her own tiredness. 

"Yeah, the Radical Dreamers. They're pretty good, if they can sneak in and out of there without getting caught." 

"Radical Dreamers . . . That's a pretty stupid name," Roan said, poking his eggs with his fork. 

"No it's not! I think it's cool. Kinda mysterious and stuff!" Kid smiled, then laughed. "You know, I think it might even be cool to join up with them. I'd show 'em a thing or two!" 

"Whatever," Roan said. 

Lucca didn't answer; her mind was elsewhere. But Kid pressed the issue. "Huh? Don't you think I should join?" 

"Well, yes, that sounds good," Lucca said, though she had no idea what Kid was talking about. She was too lost in her own thoughts. Kid's face lit up, however, and she punched Roan on the arm. 

"See!? Sis thinks I should!" 

Lucca stood, pushing in her chair as she did. She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and left the room without a word. Kid looked at Roan questioningly. 

"I didn't do anything," he defended, taking a bite of toast. "I've just been sitting here. You were probably getting on her nerves." 

Kid thought about this for a moment, then decided it wasn't possible. 'Sis thinks I'm great; no way she'd ever get annoyed with me.' Satisfied, she decided to credit Lucca's moodiness as some strange adult mannerism, and continued eating. 

Before Lucca could make her way upstairs, there came a knock at the front door. She walked to it and opened it, not surprised to find the king's messenger standing there with a note in hand. 

"For you, Lady Lucca, from the king." 

She thanked him, then closed the door, not bothering to tip him. He wasn't surprised; she never did. 

Turning, she settled into her easy chair and looked at the envelope. She wondered whether she should even bother opening it. She knew what it would say. First, there would be an apology for not sending word sooner. Then, a note of condolence for the loss of her father. After some general stuff, there would be an informal invitation to the castle, for dinner or something. It was the same every time. 

Disgusted, she slit the envelope, dropping the letter on her lap. It was sealed, too, with the official King of Guardia seal. She slit this, as well, and opened the letter. 

_Dear Lucca, Hey, how are you? I'm sorry for not getting in touch with you for so long; we haven't heard from you in awhile, and things have been hectic, with the diplomats from Porre here and all. _

I'm really sorry about your dad. The whole thing came as a shock to both of us. Especially to me. I wish there was something I could say or do to make things easier for you . . .but I know there isn't. How's your mom? Probably as devastated as you are. I'm so sorry. 

He was a wonderful guy. I remember spending summer days at your house, and he'd always be there, cracking a joke, messing my hair up (though, I'll admit, it was usually pretty messed up anyway.) Truth be known . . . I sort of considered him my dad, too. I wish . . . I wish I had gotten to spend more time with him in the past couple of years; time didn't permit, but I blame myself. And for seeing you so little, as well. I have no one to blame but myself. I'm new at this whole thing, and . . . I guess I'm not very well-accustomed to it yet. 

Anyway . . . I really want to see you. Marle misses you, and . . . things just haven't been the same. I want things to be the way they used to be. More than anything, though, I want to hear from you. Please, write me back. Or better yet, come to the castle. I'd really appreciate it. I miss you. 

Yours, 

Crono 

She felt a lump rise in her throat, and tears well up in her eyes. He sounded sincere for a change. Almost like the Crono she'd known, before he'd assumed the throne. She missed him; man, did she miss him. 

Before she could think, she was running out the door, catching a ride with the surprised messenger's cart as it was on its way back to the castle. He looked at her, confused, and she reached into her pocket and took out a few pieces of gold. "For the trouble," she said. 

Ten minutes later and Lucca found herself in the main hall of Guardia castle. She ran briskly up to the two guards, who were standing in front of the massive oaken doors which led into the throne room. 

"I'm here to see Crono," she said, smiling at them. "He wanted to see me." 

They grimaced, hearing their king's first name being uttered with seemingly no respect, then one proceeded to bow slightly. "I'll go and announce you, Lady Lucca, but I fear he may not be able to see you right now." 

She was taken aback. "What? Why not?" 

"Well, Miss, he's been meeting with the diplomats from Porre all morning. From what I've heard, things seem to be getting nowhere. And Porre's apparently got the Mystics on their side, too!" 

"Um . . . you mean _demi-humans_," said the other. 

"Right, right. Political correctness being a must and all." 

"Anyway, as you can tell, things are pretty serious," the other guard continued. "He simply may not have time for personal meetings." 

Lucca sighed. Typical. "Just tell him I'm here," she said, tapping her foot impatiently. 

One guard nodded, then opened the door a ways and crept in. She could hear, from within, some very heated debate. A few moments later and the guard was back, an apologetic expression on his face. "I am sorry, Lady Lucca, but His Majesty isn't available. He sends his deepest apologies, and asks you to return tonight, at six. Will that do?" 

'No, it won't do!' she fumed, though out loud she said, "Certainly. Thank you." 

She was forced to walk home, as she didn't have enough money to take a carriage. From the castle, the walk to her house took nearly an hour. This time gave her plenty of opportunities to muse, and to grow even more bitter. 

'So, he hasn't changed. I knew it. I should've known, anyway. He's not the person I once knew . . . and her. I'll bet _she's_ the one who's _really_ keeping him from me. She always did. Always.' 

She was crying, hot tears dripping from the tip of her chin. Her bitterness was consuming her, and she welcomed it. 

A passing stranger stopped her. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, offering her a handkerchief. Looking up, she recoiled in shock. A Mystic! He appeared to be a walking mountain lion, and he was dressed in dark robes. She quickly recovered, then took the cloth and thanked him. 

"Do not mention it. I can see that something is clearly the matter. Please, is there anything I can do to help?" He smiled at her, in what she assumed would be a warm way, if received by another Mystic. She saw it as almost threatening. 

"N-no, thank you. I'll be fine. Thank you, sir," she finished, offering him the handkerchief back. 

"By all means, keep it," he said, smiling still. "I must be back at the castle now. I'm certain they've noticed I've been gone, and are probably wondering what has happened to me." 

Now she was curious. "What, are you one of the diplomats?" 

"Indeed. You seem to be well-learned in politics, at least compared to most of the citizens here. I am from Medina, originally, though lately I have been in the land of Porre, to the south. I assume you know of what has been happening these past weeks . . ." 

She nodded. Then, she had a startling revelation. "You wouldn't happen to be . . . Sir Lynx, would you?" she asked, hoping he wasn't, though unsure just why that was so. 

"Why, yes, I am. I'm sorry that I cannot bring to memory your name, though you do look familiar . . ." 

"I'm Lucca Ashtear. I'm the . . ." 

"Oh, yes! Of course! I knew I had seen you somewhere before. Several months ago, at the Conspirator Conference." 

She nodded, then felt ashamed and looked at her feet. "Yes. How . . . how is everything coming?" 

She glanced up to see him smiling, now somewhat more maliciously. She quickly looked to the side. "Well, certainly much better, thanks to you. We feel we'll be ready for a full-scale assault in a matter of weeks." 

"That's . . . good to hear. I'm glad I could be of service." 

"Trust me, Lucca. Your services will be required again . . . though in a very different way." 

She was puzzled by this, but when she looked again, Sir Lynx was gone. 

* * * 

At dinner that evening she barely heard a word of what was said. She ate in silence, and wasn't even surprised when her mother emerged, sitting down as if nothing were wrong. Lucca was glad that the attention wasn't on her. She didn't feel like talking, especially not about her "work." She was a traitor . . . 

'But I was betrayed," she thought, looking at the clock. 'It's six. Let's see how you like being stood up, Crono. . . . and Marle. Little miss . . .' 

She stopped that line of thought, then stood and walked to her room. She sat for awhile on her bed, thinking. She thought long and hard about all that she had done over the past few months, all that she had betrayed. Her friends. Seeing and speaking with Sir Lynx had brought all she'd done to a startling climax. There was no more question: she had been wrong, and now the entire kingdom of Guardia was in danger. She began to feel sick with sorrow. There was a knock at the door, though she wasn't sure how much time had passed. 

"Yes?" she asked. 

"Can I come in?" It was Kid. 

"Sure." Kid slowly opened the door, then ran in and plopped down next to Lucca. 

"What's wrong? And don't say nothing, because I know something's wrong." 

Lucca sighed, patting the young girl on the head. "It's complicated. I'd rather not talk about it right now." 

Kid shrugged. "Okay. Oh, by the way, these are for you!" She handed Lucca a stack of papers. Leafing through them, it was all Lucca could do to stop herself from crying. 

First was a crayon picture of Frog. Then Robo. Ayla. Crono. Crono and Lucca. And Marle. Finally, a large, colorful picture of Lucca alone, smiling brightly. It was only a child's drawings, but they moved Lucca in a way she hadn't been moved in a long time. She remembered, for the first time in five years, all that her friends had meant to her. Even Marle. _Especially_ Marle. 

She decided, right then, that she no longer hated Marle. She no longer blamed her for taking Crono away. They were made for each other; Lucca and Crono were not. As friends, they were as close as could be, but Marle possessed that extra something, that something that made her the one for Crono. 

She sighed. "Thanks, Kid. Go pin them up in the hall. Everyone should get to see them." 

Kid smiled brightly, then ran from the room, down the stairs, and set herself to work displaying her art. Lucca smiled, too, then grew serious. She needed to tell Crono the truth. There would be no peace talks. Porre planned on using its newly-amassed military strength to crush Guardia. She looked at the clock: 11:30. Much too late to be going to the castle. 

'Tomorrow," she decided. 'Tomorrow.' 

* * * 

She awoke to the choking stench of smoke, and fumbled for her glasses. She knocked them onto the floor with her hand, then jumped to the ground to search. She came up at the feet of 

"Lynx!" 

He reached down and picked her up. "Ah, Lucca. As I said, you will be putting yourself to good use once again, and this time not only for Porre, but for the good of the whole planet. I demand to know the code to unlock Prometheus!" 

She screamed, though it was too late. "Lynx, do you not think we should be going?" came a small voice from behind Lucca. Unable to look, as Lynx had her suspended two feet in the air, she could only listen. 

"Yes, you're right. We'll take her back to Chronopolis. Hopefully she'll be willing to talk. If not . . ." 

The small voice laughed. Lynx turned, holding Lucca by the back of the shirt. Suddenly, Kid burst into the room, hacking and coughing from the smoke. 

"SIS!" she screamed, falling over as a flaming beam toppled directly in front of her. Lynx glanced back at the girl, then smiled. 

"Cute. Say goodbye, kid." 

Before Kid could think, the two were gone. And she would've perished in the flames, were it not for some unexpected help from the future. 

* * * 

And so it was that Lucca was not able to warn Crono of the impending invasion. And the invasion came. Guardia was wiped out in the space of a night, and Crono and Marle were executed publicly, beneath Nadia's bell. The bell, too, was knocked from its perch, almost symbolically. 

The Atom-diffuser came in handy; as did the Flambom. Not one person had the slightest idea what was happening as they were vaporized out of existence. 

_Author's Notes_

This being my first Chrono Trigger fanfic, I decided to write on the topic that interested me the most: namely, the period of time between Chrono Trigger and Chrono Cross, specifically the time in 1005 AD when Guardia was overtaken by Porre. I got the idea to have Lucca be a sort of traitor from Chrono Cross, when you're in her room, and you find those receipts on her desk from the Porre military. Suspicious, if I do say so myself... If you have any comments, etc. please write to me at lambogod@hotmail.com. Thanks for reading! 


End file.
